To Be Normal
by Naughty-Spy
Summary: 10 years in the future. SV have their own family and 'normal' problems, much fluff and fun.


To Be Normal  
  
Write a fic of no less than 500 words, containing the dialogue 'You told me that night we played chess naked on the yacht after you threw up your tomato and mustard sandwich.'  
  
Disclaimer: Alias belongs to J.J Abrams, the dude that made Flickity and has totally cute/geeky glasses!  
  
Totally AU, future fic. In about 10 years.  
  
Normal: Usual, standard, regular, ordinary, typical, custom, common, average. That's what Sydney wants and I decided I might as well give it to her.  
  
~~~~~  
  
It was a picturesque summer evening; the sun had just set although soft pink, purple and orange rays could still be seen just over the horizon. The world was beautiful; it was on days like this that you knew world peace wasn't far over the horizon. Or at least within your life. The street was calm, a gentle breeze playing through lacy curtains in the houses bordering the tar that young children played on, cherishing the last rays of sunlight. But something was completely wrong. Something was missing. If you didn't know what it was, you wouldn't miss it at all. But without it, the world seemed absent. There was no yelling, no screaming, no childish tears. No expressions of mental anguish that a child could so excellently convey with a few cries and a scrunched-up face.  
  
Sydney and Michael Vaughn were very happy with their life. Who wouldn't be happy with a beautiful house, two cars, good jobs, a loving relationship, and two gorgeous children? But it was the aforementioned 'two gorgeous children' that so often severed the peaceful serenity of their quiet neighbourhood with ear-splitting screams. But they made the street real. Normal. And Sydney and Michael wouldn't have it any other way.  
  
Gordon, or Geordie was just turning 7, while his younger sister Kimberley had recently turned 5, but those two could argue like the best of em'. Both had attained their mother's stubbornness, and the trait that both their parent's contained, that of always believing they were right. Not a day went by when there was silence for the entire day, unless of course the week in autumn just before hockey season started when Simon went to hockey camp and his sister was left at home with their parents to herself.  
  
It was these two children that so often interuppted the tranquil existence that had become the Vaughns. It was a rare thing when the cosy two-story house was NOT rocked by infantile shouts and outbursts. Geordie and Kimmi were both adorable, caring, sweet children, even if Geordie could be a bit of a rascal sometimes. Kimmi was cheeky too, but the combination seemed to equal the two children arguing over the most insipid of things.  
  
Just last week Sydney had walked into the toy room after tearful shouts and discovered they were fighting over whose nail on their pinky finger was longest. Sydney wondered sometimes how she and Michael had raised their children to be so petty, but he reminded her that they weren't like that with other children; they were the sweetest, most gentle kids that all parents would be thrilled to raise. But they were both so spirited that when put in a room together, had a habit to blow the roof off.  
  
The two would probably be best friends one day, with their similar personalities and morals, but for now, they couldn't contrast more.  
  
Sydney was sitting on the railing of the back patio, contemplating the disputing routines of her children when she heard the shit hit the fan. It always began with distant roars, followed by dull yells, and then Kimmi's high shrieks, and then ended with screams, over-exaggerated tears, and loud screeching. Sydney sighed loudly and rolled off the wooden railing, walking in through the open French doors and jogging quickly up the stairs to Kimberley's room, where she found them nose-to-nose, each glaring daggers.  
  
"Mommy!" Kimmi yelled instantly, running to her mother. "Geordie took my dolly and messed up her pretty hair that I did myself and now it's yucky and he did it on purpose and I didn't do anything and he stole her and Brittany got scared and he messed her hair up but he took her and messed her hair and now I have to do it again and he did it and he knew it was mean but he did it on purpose Mommy he was mean and he did it purposely just to be mean and he's mean he ruined her hair why did he ruin her hair I didn't do anything this time he just took my dolly and she got scared Mommy Brittany got scared Geordie made her scared he messed her hair why did he do that Mommy you have to yell at him 'cos he was mean and ruined Brittany's hair on purpose!" She wailed into her Mom's thigh. Sydney would have laughed, if Kimmi hadn't been so upset by the fact that her dolly's hair was messed up and Kimberley would have to redo it.  
  
"Gordon Michael, please don't take your sisters doll again, or next time Brittany's hair gets messed up YOU'LL be re-doing it. And Kimmi, sweetie, why don't you just let me redo Brittany's hair, I promise I'll try to make it as beautiful as you did."  
  
"Okay Mommy." Kimmi sniffled, turning her head from her mother's leg to poke her tongue out at her brother.  
  
"Okaaaay." Geordie stressed, running his right hand through his already tousled brown hair, a trait his father had somehow passed on to his son. Geordie was almost 7; he was fast becoming a big boy, and the last thing he wanted was to have to do some stupid doll's hair!  
  
"Great, now Daddy's gonna be home soon so do you want to help me with dinner, Kimmi?" Sydney asked as though it was a huge honour.  
  
"Yes please!" Kimberley squeaked, poking her tongue out at her brother again before dropping the recently rescued doll on the floor and running downstairs, her small feet making soft thuds as they hit each step.  
  
Sydney gave her son a kiss on his ruffled hair and followed Kimmi downstairs while Geordie mischievously eyes his sister's abandoned doll, but then decided against further action on it's hair, he'd already been reprimanded by his mother twice today, although he knew his mom only warned his because without it, Kimmi would protest. He was never punished and was always rewarded with a large smile from his mom when he didn't take his sister's bait of poking out her tongue. It was a characteristic that was pure Kimberley, and he preferred smirking at his sister above poking out his tongue. He raced downstairs to see what was for dinner.  
  
~~~~~  
  
Kimberley peeked into the top drawer, trying to find the right amount of cutlery for her daddy, mommy, brother and her to eat their dinner. She had been given a very important task, setting the table, and it was imperative she do her job flawlessly.  
  
"One. t-two. three, four!" She counted as she blindly picked up four forks from the drawer that was about the same height as her, therefore she couldn't really see what she was getting.  
  
"Got them, Mommy." She smiled happily. Sydney crossed to her daughter and gave her a small hug before checking on the spaghetti cooking in the oven, a favourite of Geordie's. She looked up and smiled radiantly as her husband walked into the kitchen, already changed into a grey sweatshirt and jeans that in her opinion, hugged his figure perfectly. He smiled back, planting a sweet kiss on her lips before picking up his daughter and setting her in his lap as he took a seat at the breakfast bench.  
  
"Did you have a good day?" Sydney asked lovingly, stirring the sauce as she looked back over her shoulder at Michael's cute banter with his baby girl.  
  
He grinned. "One of my students, honestly, he has more knowledge of French curse words than I do! He loves demonstrating his profanity in the middle of class, causing the rest of the class to ask me what they mean, claiming when they all travel to French they'll need to know how to stick up for themselves! Honestly though, he's a bit of a riot. Reminds me of a French Eric."  
  
Sydney coughed loudly, hiding her laugh at the thought of a French Eric Weiss.  
  
"What?" Michael asked her, grinning.  
  
"Can you imagine Weiss in France, all those attractive French women. He'd be in heaven! He'd probably ask them if they wanted to see his 'yo-yo'." She smiled before an insistent beeping rang out. "Garlic bread's done. You wanna get that for me?"  
  
"Of course. What else are guardian angels for?"  
  
"Apart from fetching garlic bread, not much."  
  
He smiled at her playful teasing, picking up the oven mitts that rested on the bench and setting his daughter down in their place. Sydney turned off the stove and served the spaghetti onto the plates that Kimmi had earlier pulled off of the high shelves using the help of a stool.  
  
"I'll get Geordie." Michael volunteered, giving his daughter a piggy-back upstairs where they knocked rapidly on Geordie's open door until he looked up from the hockey skates he had been critically studying in his lap.  
  
"Dad, my blades are getting really blunt." He complained.  
  
"I'll get Dave to sharpen them then. C'mon, your mother's slaved away for a good 20 minutes to cook spaghetti for you. Now if I could just find your sister." He finished playfully, looking around as though he didn't realise she was dangling from his neck. She giggled and he acted as though he couldn't figure out where it was coming from.  
  
"Race you downstairs!" Geordie yelled, taking off down the hall.  
  
"No fair buddy! I've got something hanging from my neck!" Michael yelled good naturedly, taking off down the stairs after Geordie, holding tightly to Kimmi.  
  
He made it downstairs to see Geordie standing nonchalantly by the fridge, while Sydney surveyed them, the look on her face dead-serious, but Michael could see the edges of her mouth beginning to turn up at the sight of their flushed faces and messy hair.  
  
"If you'd rather run up and down the stairs, I could save yours for later, Vaughn." Sydney told him, pretending to be mad.  
  
"Yeah, I 'spose you could." He answered, playing along.  
  
"Or maybe I'd just throw it in the bin."  
  
"Maybe I'll just eat yours instead." He grinned setting down his daughter as she moved to the table, waiting for her brother to put the plates in everyone's spots.  
  
Sydney watched her children in the dining room, she loved them so much. They were so much a part of her, something she loved so much that she didn't have words for, because they were the creations of her and Michael's love. He followed her gaze and grinned.  
  
"Yeah, I love them too." He moved behind her and wrapped her in his embrace, kissing her cheek from behind. She leaned into him, a serene look on her face.  
  
"Ewww!" Kimmi and Geordie wailed in unison from the dining room, Sydney and Michael not even bothering to separate.  
  
"I love you." Sydney breathed, loving moments like these that were a frequent but cherished thing in their marriage.  
  
"And I love you." Came the reply as Michael took her hand and lead her into the adjoining dining room, pulling out her chair chivalrously and taking his place next to her, at the end of the table. He and Geordie sat at the ends, Kimmi and Sydney on the sides, so Michael could conveniently rub her thigh affectionately as she ate.  
  
They ate pretty quietly, and were silent apart from Kimmi's welcome chatter about her pre-school and Geordie's innocent ribbing. When he had finished eating, as he always did first, Michael right hand moved under the table, traditionally patting Sydney's knee gently.  
  
"So, what's on the agenda tonight?"  
  
"I have homework." Geordie grumbled. "I'm only in second grade and Mrs. Reed gave us homework!"  
  
"I don't have homework." Kimmi answered smugly. "Ha-ha!"  
  
"Yeah well, you will if you get Mrs. Mac in second grade."  
  
Kimmi narrowed her eyebrows. "But I don't WANT homework!" She whined.  
  
"You don't have to worry about that now, Muppet." Michael answered tenderly, causing a large smile on Kimmi's face when she realised her brother still had homework, and she didn't.  
  
"Do you want help with your homework Geordie?" His father asked.  
  
"Nah, it's just stupid maths problems. Mom taught me how to do them when I was 5!"  
  
Michael looked to Sydney who shrugged sheepishly. "He's always been so smart, and he caught on so fast, so I figured I may as well teach him subtraction and addition. And you KNOW he can only multiply like he can because I taught him early."  
  
"You're such a teacher, Syd." Michael smiled, getting up and taking everyone's plates into the kitchen. The rest of them stood up too, Sydney and Kimmi going into the lounge room to play the piano, and Geordie heading upstairs to do his dreaded homework as Michael started the dishwasher, smiling at the domestic panorama he hadn't even allowed himself to dream of 10 years ago.  
  
~~~~~  
  
Sydney joined Michael on the couch after putting Geordie to bed; Kimmi had been put to bed an hour before. "What are you thinking about?" She asked him after a while of watching him stare out the window.  
  
"How much I love you." He answered, draping an arm comfortingly around her waist and pulling her to him as she allowed herself to lean her head on his shoulder.  
  
"Mmmm." She murmured contently. He kissed the top of her head and smiled at the thought that popped into his head.  
  
"I heard a Barry Manilow song on the radio in the car."  
  
Sydney gasped and batted his chest playfully. "You said you'd stop with that!"  
  
"I'm sorry, but Barry Manilow! Syd! You own FOUR of his albums!"  
  
"I don't even remember telling you that anyway!" She pouted.  
  
"You told me that night we played chess naked on the yacht after you threw up your tomato and mustard sandwich." He replied laughing.  
  
Sydney giggled. "I remember that! You accidentally dropped my bra overboard and had to dive in and get it!"  
  
"Well it was a very attractive bra."  
  
Sydney snorted. "Oh yeah. You'd do anything for that bra."  
  
"Who wouldn't? It's a special bra. You wore it on our very first date, and you wear it on every anniversary of our first date. And only then. It's perfectly normal for me to cherish a bra. YOUR bra, may I add? It contains many good memories. Like you telling me you owned Barry Manilow records!"  
  
"Shut up!" She grinned, turning her head into his chest. "Mmmm. You smell good."  
  
"Not as good as you." He answered, sniffing her hair, the fresh scent of her conditioner filling his nose.  
  
She giggled. "That tickled."  
  
He laughed, wrapping his arms around her more protectively, his chin resting on her head. He suddenly turned sombre. "Did you hear about the car crash today?"  
  
Sydney nodded, her head still buried under his. "Mother and child killed instantly, driver of the other car had been heavily drinking."  
  
"I thought it was you for a moment. I imagined you and Geordie, or Kimmi, had been in that car. I had to remind myself they were safe at schools and you would have been at work. But I just. I don't want to lose you. Not ever."  
  
Sydney looked up at him sincerely. "You don't ever have to worry about losing us. We love you too much. And I'm going to spend the next fifty or so years of my life loving you, so you don't have to worry about that."  
  
Michael nodded, his fears quelled. Sydney's soothing words always made him feel better. She truly was an angel. And he was glad they had got their life, the normality they had always wished for. Nothing covert, nothing clandestine. Just a normal life, with their two sweet kids and a WHOLE lot of love. 


End file.
